New York, New York
by CzarnaBastet
Summary: One-shot about some things in Finchel/Klaine's apartament in New York.


Every time he watched her wearing leotard, he was thankful this school had panes in a gym instead of walls. He was sitting on a bench, just in front of her, and boldly watching her moves. He was doing it every Monday, between a practise and evening classes. It was a ritual. Having no time to talk, they could at least observe each other during this one and a half hour. And every time he blessed these panes. And the leotard.

He packed away a bottle of water and a few sandwiches he had found on a kitchen table, next to Kurt's and Blaine's. He was always wondering how she does it – she wakes up much earlier, has her schedule tight everyday, but still she manages to make them breakfast. He laughed as he recalled Burt's face when he and Kurt told him they are applying to schools in New York. Both of them. Together with Rachel and Blaine. His mother was so proud he had got a scholarship that she didn't even comment on his decision. His brother and Rachel both got accepted to NYADA, Blaine and he were about to study in NYU. Things went wrong when they all decided to move in together. Burt almost had the second stroke. For a week Carol and he have tried to talk them out of this idea, but eventually, they gave up. Did they have a choice?

The first two weeks were a torture they didn't expect. He has been living with Kurt before, so why the hell all mornings were so horrible? Maybe because he didn't have to share a bathroom with him, when they lived in Lima? Maybe because Blaine didn't drive him crazy singing arias while taking a shower before? Or maybe because Rachel has never thrown books in him when he tried to play drums after work? Yes, work. He had many reasons to find one. First of all, living in a small apartment with three amateur artists just blows his mind, and the second thing – he couldn't let himself be a burden for his parents, who were also maintaining Kurt. He didn't want to depend on them. Next, he wanted Rachel to see all Broadway musicals she could dream of. It was only in weekends, for a couple of hours, but it gave him a sense that he is doing more than he has to. Still, he had a lot on his head. Finally, everything fall into place, they got used to each other and could normally live in their small space. Everything took its course. They were going to parties, concerts and to the cinema, until the last Saturday, when Rachel decided to fulfil her goal she made in Lima. Finn came back from work, exhausted by receiving so many orders. While still being in a staircase, he felt something was wrong. He knew those voices, but he couldn't believe it. He opened the door and landed in the middle of a party. In his own hall. And a kitchen. And their bedrooms. And probably in a bathroom, too. When he finally found Rachel and expected a good explanation from her, it turned out it is a party mix – Blaine's birthday and a crumb of comfort for Mercedes.

'You know what, I think I don't get it!' he shouted over the head of a guy he had no right to know. 'What the hell is going on here?'

'They refused Mercedes's application, remember?' Rachel replied and hiccough at the same time 'So I invited her to New York to cheer her up a little bit. Do you mind?' she looked at him coquettishly.

'Noooooo! I'm just surprised you didn't tell me. But I see you invited only Mercedes?' he looked amused at the crowd which consisted almost of all glee club members.

'You see...'she fought her way and hugged him 'I invited her, and she took Sam. So Sam took...'

'Yeah, he took Puck, who took Lauren and Mike, who couldn't be here without Tina, who took Artie...' he interrupted her, even more amused than before. It became hilarious, especially, that Rachel was already drunk and wiggled in an odd way.

'And you know, Artie wouldn't come without Britt, who took Santana, who took Quinn...' she laughed out loud. 'So here they are...'

Right now, his brother passed him and Finn couldn't believe his eyes.

'Rachel? What the...' he wasn't able to finish. 'I thought you'd watch him!'

'Brrrrroooooooo! Come here!' Kurt waved at Finn 'Come and drink with me!'

Finn was thankful neither his mum, nor his step dad called them during this party. Burt might have been furious. Supposing, watching drunk Kurt and jealous Blaine was funny, but an attempt to stop Kurt vomiting on a kitchen table was definitely not. When he was finally drunk, a half of people was unconscious and the other half hid with their partners in the whole apartment. There stayed only Kurt, Puck and an almost empty bottle of tequila. And Rachel on his own shoulder.

The next day, he was grateful that a hangover decided to avoid him and that he could function normally, unlike the rest of guests. Especially, unlike Kurt. When he was trying to get to the bathroom, he did his best not to step on somebody laying on the floor. But, with his dimensions and the configuration of laying bodies, it was a quite difficult challenge. Luckily, most of them was still sleeping so they didn't shout in pain. But, if he was Sam, Blaine and Rachel's schoolmate, he would cry like a little baby.

Watching Rachel stretching on a horizontal bar, he felt nice tingles in his spine. He smiled to her and his Saturday memories. He was glad his friends came by, but also that they have already gone. When the place became empty again, it occurred it is quite spatial. And despite the fact, that he already missed Puck, Sam and Artie, singing Santana and Mercedes and dancing Britt and Mike, he wouldn't give his bedroom away. His own four walls he was sharing with Rachel, too. His bed which was big enough for both of them. His apartment on eleventh floor, in one of the skyscraper in New York, that he was sharing with his brother, his boyfriend, and his one and only diva.


End file.
